


keep me guessin'

by city135



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Single Parents, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-19
Updated: 2019-08-26
Packaged: 2019-10-29 21:29:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17815853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/city135/pseuds/city135
Summary: Doyoung didn’t expect to run into Yuta again — not likethis. And definitely not with a four year old clinging to Yuta’s leg.





	1. one

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mochibbh](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mochibbh/gifts).



> prompt: young-ish single parent au. either doyoung or yuta could be the parent but i personally think it would be interesting if yuta was the single parent? however i don’t have a strong preference! bonus points if it’s slightly angsty but ultimately fluffy/slow-burn. up to you how they end up meeting (neighbors, one of them is their kid’s teacher, etc). would love if the kid were one of the dreamies <3
> 
> to mochibbh: i'm sorry in advance that this will have to be a chaptered fic. life is....life rn and i really wanted to do this prompt justice! though i am a slow writer, i promise i will definitely finish writing this!  
> and to anyone reading: i hope you enjoy <3

“So are you going to tell me more about this — quote — _not-date_ — un-quote — or...?” Doyoung shoves his phone between his head and shoulder while he reaches for his keys, fumbling with them for a moment, the fingers of his other hand struggling to hold the weight of his canvas grocery bags.

Johnny’s voice is tinny in his ear as he answers: “There really isn’t more to say — we went out as a group, and the two of us happened to sit next to each other, and it was nice.”

Doyoung opens the door with a huff and quickly shuffles inside, sparing a glance at the apartment across the hall from him. For the past week, he’s seen the door propped open from time to time and boxes in the hall before they’re brought inside — telltale signs of a new neighbor moving in. “This is, what, the second time this has happened?”

“Third actually,” Johnny sighs.

“Just ask him out.” Doyoung nudges the door closed behind him with his foot and hurries to his small kitchen to set down the bags, stretching his fingers after. “We’re adults. With jobs. This isn’t _high school_.”

“Well, I do _teach_ high schoolers,” Johnny says. Doyoung scoffs. If Doyoung doesn’t behave like a middle school student, then Johnny has no excuse to behave so childishly.

He opens his fridge and starts to put away the vegetables he bought. “Are you going to at least tell me his name anytime soon?” The milk comes next, followed by a carton of a half-dozen eggs.

“If it all works out..” Johnny mumbles to himself while Doyoung finishes putting away the perishables. “Anyway. How’s your Saturday going?”

 _Coward_ , Doyoung almost says, but he swallows it down. He’s known Johnny since he was an undergraduate, and the older rarely got shy about asking people out. Either he  _really_ likes this person, or there's more to the situation than he's letting on.

“I did some grocery shopping, probably going to catch up with one of the five shows I’m behind on, get started on grading homework, organize stuff for next week...” These days, Doyoung likes to keep himself busy, keep his mind occupied from the second he wakes up to the moment sleep takes over. He thinks about the door across the hallway. “My new neighbor finally finished settling in, I think. Maybe I’ll pay them a visit, welcome them to the neighborhood and whatnot.”

Doyoung likes to know who’s in his building, or at least who lives on his floor. The person who lives to the right of his apartment is a bit reclusive, and some of his other neighbors rarely seem to be at home, but he’s on good terms with the couple next door, and the elderly lady down the hall adores him — she always tells him about her flowers and sometimes even gives him fresh herbs from the tiny garden in her balcony.

“Oh — you haven’t met them yet? I thought you said they’ve been moving in for over a week.”

“I keep missing them, I guess.” Doyoung opens his pantry. He has enough flour and sugar, and he just got eggs and butter — surely he has enough ingredients to make _something_. “Do you think I should bring cookies? Or would a meal be better?”

“You usually can’t go wrong with cookies,” Johnny says sagely.

“You’re right,” Doyoung hums. He doesn’t know anything about the people across the hall, but sweets were generally a nice gesture, weren’t they? Maybe he’d make a smaller batch, just in case it isn’t to their taste.

“I’ll leave you too it then. I have stuff to grade, too.”

“You said you could make it on Wednesday, right?”

“Of course,” Johnny chuckles. “I love your cooking too much to ever say no.” It’s been a tradition of sorts for them — to meet up every so often with their other friends and catch up with each other. The last few dinners have been at Doyoung’s apartment, but thankfully Taeyong drops in early to help him set up and cook.

Doyoung grins. “See you, then.”

Johnny bids him goodbye, and Doyoung gets to work.

 

○ ○ ○

 

The cookies come out well — or at least they look like they have. _And_ Doyoung managed to fit in half an episode of _Sky Castle_ while prepping and waiting for them to bake in the oven.

He takes his laptop and one still-hot cookie to the living room to finish the episode while he waits for the rest to cool.

He breaks off a piece and blows on it before taking a small bite, the cookie still hot in his mouth. It’s good though — sweet but not overbearingly so, a good balance of flavors. Doyoung breaks off another piece and chews thoughtfully.

He thinks he’ll give half of the dozen to his new neighbors and half to the elderly woman in apartment 207 — he knows she has a sweet tooth. And it’s the least he can do to repay the fresh mint he had gotten from her last week.

He steals one more cookie from the batch while he finishes the episode (maybe Taeyong has rubbed off on him), then tidies up the kitchen and packs away the cookies into two containers, saving whatever doesn’t fit for himself. He’ll visit his new neighbor first, since he had seen Mrs. Wong leave the building as he was coming in.

He wonders what kind of person moved in across the hall. He hasn’t heard too much noise, so he’s guessing it’s a single person. Or maybe two quiet people.

Doyoung picks up one of the boxes of cookies and takes a quick glance in the mirror. He looks decent enough — cardigan over a plain shirt and jeans, concealer over the dark circles. He fixes his hair, then heads out and takes three shorts steps to the home across from his own.

Doyoung clears his throat, then knocks on the door twice.

It takes a moment, and Doyoung almost turns to leave — he could stop by in the evening, maybe — before the door opens, revealing a man in a sleeveless shirt and sweatpants.

“Hello,” he says softly, polite with a small smile. He’s attractive; strong jaw, plush lips, pretty eyes, handsome nose, and...

Doyoung’s eyes widen in recognition. He thinks of a hot July night, low cut shirts, dim lights. He had gone out of his way to go to a bar the town over, to avoid running into people he knew. He hadn’t planned on leaving with someone, but Doyoung had no regrets. “Your place?” The man had whispered close to his ear. And the rest was history.

“Hi. I live across the hall. I just wanted to drop by and say, um — hi.” Doyoung’s usually far more eloquent than this. But it’s not every day his one night stand from months ago becomes his new neighbor.

He wracks his brain for a name. He feels bad for not remembering, especially when that night had been great, the change in pace he desperately needed. But before he can say anything, a small, young voice interrupts him.

“Papa, who’s this?”

Doyoung looks down to find a child, maybe three or four years old, tugging at the man’s pants.

The man — oh, what was his name again? — picks up the the child and balances him on his hip. And his entire demeanor shifts, voice becoming gentle as he talks to the boy: “This is our new neighbor, Jaemin.”

“Hi,” Jaemin says softly, shy now that Doyoung’s attention is on him. He buries his face against the man’s shoulder.

 _He’s adorable_ , Doyoung thinks, a smile spreading across his face. “Nice to meet you, Jaemin,” he says, using the same tone he’d talk in when he used to work part-time at a daycare. “My name is Doyoung Kim.”

Jaemin nods slowly, then leans up to whisper in his father’s ear, though he’s still loud enough for Doyoung to hear. “Papa has to say his name now.”

The man smiles wider, clearly endeared. “That’s right, Jaeminnie.” He looks at Doyoung again with that smile that seems to brighten up his entire face. “I’m Yuta. Would you like to come inside?”

Yuta’s apartment has a similar layout to his own, a short hall leading out to branch into a bedroom and bathroom. It’s sparse — most of the decoration comprising of Jaemin’s toys on the floor of the living room — but it’s nice.

Yuta sets Jaemin down and the boy rushes back to the living room, sprawling out on the floor and grabbing a crayon to return to whatever masterpiece he has on the paper laid out. And with just Yuta, Doyoung feels the same way he does at parent-teacher nights — oddly exposed, like every breath he takes is being evaluated — except that this time it’s somehow worse.

“I thought I’d make cookies — because who doesn’t like cookies, right?” Yuta leads him to the dining area and Doyoung sets the container on the table. “Unless I’m wrong — you don’t hate cookies do you? Oh, I didn’t even consider allergies.”

“Doyoung.” Yuta grins, effectively stopping Doyoung’s rambling. How embarrassing — he hasn’t nervous-talked like this since he was sixteen. “Cookies are fine, they smell great.” He peers at the container. “I’m sure we’ll love them.”

Doyoung nearly lets out a sigh of relief, but he puts on a smile instead. “Have you finished settling in?”

Yuta nods. “Finally finished unpacking the last of it this morning. I was thinking Jaemin and I would step out later and explore a little more.”

“If you need anything, or have any questions…” Doyoung points over his shoulder, towards the general direction of his apartment. “I’m right across the hall.”

“Oh — thank you.” Yuta smiles, showing off his teeth again. He has very pretty teeth. “I’d appreciate it.”

They fall into a rather awkward silence for a few moments, and Doyoung takes a chance to look over Yuta again. As far as Doyoung can tell, Yuta is around his age, putting him at around twenty-eight, give or take a couple of years. He’s not wearing as many earrings — that Doyoung very much appreciated — as when they meet, and instead has simple hoops in each lobe. He’s all lean muscle and pretty lines, and while Yuta is definitely shorter than him, the way he holds himself makes him seem taller than he actually is, all while maintaining elegance. 

“You know…” Yuta takes a step closer to Doyoung, eyes flickering over to the living room for a second. He lowers his voice when he speaks. “When I was looking for a place, I thought this building seemed familiar, but I couldn’t exactly place why…”

“Oh.” _Oh._ “So you remember that we…”

Yuta grins wider, almost sounds playful when he says: “Of course. I wouldn’t forget _that_.”

Doyoung feels warmth rush to his cheeks, ears growing hot too as he tries to find something to say. But luckily, a phone goes off in the living room and Jaemin calls out: “Papa~ Papa, papa! Phone!”

 _Saved by the bell_ , Doyoung thinks in a voice that sounds oddly like Johnny’s.

“Sorry, one sec — that might be important.”

“No problem!” Doyoung follows Yuta to the living room, lingering closer to the main door. “I should probably head back now anyway, I have some work to take care of.”

The phone stops ringing by the time Yuta finds it, wedged between the couch cushions. He slips it into his pocket, after checking who had called. “Thanks for dropping by. And for the cookies.”

“Of course. Welcome to the neighborhood.” Doyoung turns his attention to the boy, who is scribbling onto the large sheet of paper underneath him intently. “It was nice to meet you, Jaemin.”

At the mention of his name, Jaemin looks up at Doyoung, then turns to look at his father. Yuta gives him an encouraging smile. “Doyoung has to go now, what do we say?”

Jaemin looks back at Doyoung and waves, a pink crayon still clutched in his little fist. “Buh-bye,” he says softly.

Doyoung smiles and waves back gently. “Bye-bye.” Jaemin really is absolutely adorable.

Yuta walks Doyoung to the door and pulls it open. He looks like he wants to say something, to maybe continue their conversation before the phone had interrupted them, but he settles on a small smile. “See you around, yeah?”

Doyoung nods, his own grin softening. “See you.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading ^^ comments/kudos are greatly appreciated~  
> 


	2. two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Sunny eggs!"

Doyoung has found, in the last few years, that 7:30 AM on the weekends is one of the most peaceful times of the week. He used to hate waking up early, but now it's hard for him to sleep past eight at the most, his body automatically rising with the sun.

It's nice, really. He still does get to sleep in, even if it’s not much by his old standards. There's no need to rush to get ready and head to school, no pressing errands to run that early in the morning. Just a moment of silence where he can tend to his succulents and flowers, enjoy a hot cup of coffee (in a mug instead of a travel thermos), and go over his planner, taking stuff out and adding things in if needed.

Doyoung leans against his kitchen counter, slowly stirring sugar into his coffee. After breakfast, he'll need to get started on grading. He had given the first quiz of the school year yesterday, and he wants to finish up all his classes and get the grades online by the evening, Sunday afternoon at the latest. Going to the library would probably be a good idea — he usually gets more done there. He should probably pack a lunch then, too. But what..?

Doyoung's eyes fall on the lonely container sitting in the dish drying rack across from him. It’s the one with the green lid, the one he had given to Yuta two weeks ago.  

Yuta and Jaemin had stopped by last week to return it, Yuta in scrubs with a zipper hoodie on top, Jaemin holding onto his hand, wearing a similar hoodie. Yuta had thanked him with a charming smile. Jaemin has leaned against Yuta’s leg with a sweet smile of his own and told Doyoung the cookies were yummy.

After welcoming them officially, Doyoung kept running into the father and son duo, in the hallway or in the lobby of the building. Jaemin seemed to have opened up more, each time he saw Doyoung, even waving to him first sometimes. And Yuta — usually Yuta would smile politely, raise his hand in greeting, like most neighbors do. But sometimes he’d give Doyoung this _look_ , like he’s trying to figure him out or something, and Doyoung still isn’t sure how to feel about it.

Doyoung raises his mug to his mouth. Breakfast comes first — he'll worry about lunch and everything else after he's gotten one cup of coffee in him.

He takes a sip and lazily scrolls through social media and his e-mails (he’ll wait until he’s a little more awake to check his work inbox). He likes a photo Joy posted and Donghyun’s status update detailing a (spoiler free) review of a movie he’s been telling Doyoung to go see. His personal inbox is mostly filled promotional deals and coupons, but there is one notification about a parcel that had arrived last night — that must be the essential oils he ordered for his humidifier.

Doyoung sets his coffee down. He might as well get the package now instead of when he’s heading out (plus, he’s pretty excited to finally try them). He grabs his keys and pulls on a light sweater, fixing his hair before stepping out of his apartment. He doesn’t _think_ he’ll run into anyone in the lobby so early in the morning, but if he does, he’d rather look at least a little put together.

Doyoung is about to lock his door when there’s a clattering sound, muffed through the walls — they always have been a little too thin for his liking. He’s about to ignore it, but then it’s followed by the incessant beeping of a fire alarm and what sounds like a groan of frustration. Doyoung looks around, trying to figure out which apartment it’s coming from — he hopes everything is alright.

There's a moment of silence — the fire alarm's beeping coming to an abrupt halt — then the door across the hall opens, and Doyoung is met with the sight of a messy-haired Yuta holding Jaemin, with equally sleep-ruffled hair. Behind them, there's a hint of smoke wafting out of the kitchen.

"Oh." Yuta looks at Doyoung with wide eyes when he realizes they aren't the only ones in the hall. "Um. Good morning."

"Good morning." Doyoung offers a small smile, eyebrows raised. "Are you okay?"

Jaemin waves, bright-eyed and cheerful. "Papa messed up breakfast," he says, matter-of-factly.

Yuta's cheeks tinge pink. "This isn't — this doesn't usually happen. I swear, I'm responsible. I just...Got a little ambitious and tried to do too much at once," he explains quickly. “I opened up some windows just a crack, we’re just gonna — hang out here until the smoke clears out completely.”

Doyoung nods slowly. "Right..." He doesn't claim to know Yuta at all, but he didn't expect to see him frazzled like this, especially when he always looks cool and collected.

Yuta brings his free hand up to attempt to flatten the strand of hair sticking up on the side of his head. It springs back up. "I usually make pretty great breakfast."

"Sunny eggs!" Jaemin adds cheerfully.

At that, Yuta's expression melts into a soft smile. "Sunny side up." He ruffles Jaemin's hair affectionately. "But I think that was the last of our eggs. I'll have to find something else to make for breakfast today, Jaem."

"I was just about to start making breakfast," Doyoung finds himself saying. "If you two would like to join me..?"

Yuta's lips part in surprise, and Doyoung's mind catches up to his mouth, realizing what he's saying. He takes back all his thoughts about enjoying the morning hours. Perhaps being awake this early is a mistake.

He's had his neighbors over for dinner and lunch before, that’s not uncommon. Sometimes it’s planned, sometimes it’s a spur of the moment kind of thing. That's kind of how he befriended Jisoo and her girlfriend from the floor above. But this is Yuta.

Yuta hadn't stayed for breakfast after their night together, and instead slipped out of bed and got dressed, thanking Doyoung for a good time before letting himself out. Which was fair, of course. Doyoung would've done the exact same thing.

But it feels weird now — awkward — to ask him to breakfast.

He doesn’t really do hookups. The only other time had been freshmen year, and he hadn’t really seen that person on campus after that, the two of them apparently in completely different academic circles. What’s the etiquette for your one night stand moving in next door? He’s not sure there’s a precedent.

"Or not," Doyoung says when Yuta doesn’t reply. "Whatever you want."

"Cookies for breakfast?" Jaemin's mouth forms a small o, expression just like his fathers from a moment ago.

Doyoung shakes his head with a soft laugh. "Not cookies, but I could make something else you like."

“Papa, let’s go.” Jaemin taps at Yuta's arm. "You said breakfast is the most important meal of the day!”

"That's very kind of you, are you sure..?" Yuta asks, adjusting Jaemin on his hip.

Doyoung nods. He may as well commit to it now. He can get his package later. "I have a habit of making too much for one person, it wouldn't be any trouble."

Yuta looks at Jaemin, who seems to be eager about the idea. It's probably for Jaemin's sake that he agrees with a short nod. "Thank you, then, Doyoung."

Doyoung feels his shoulders sag just the slightest bit in relief, and he smiles, holding the door open wider so they can come in.

Yuta reaches into his pocket for his keys then locks the door before crossing the hall. Jaemin claps his hands together. "But you have to let me — let _us_ take you to lunch sometime."

Doyoung chews on the inside of his cheek, trying to think of something to say, but nothing he can think of seems right. He just nods again and leads them into the kitchen. “What do you usually like to eat?”

The father and son both looks around the apartment as they slowly follow Doyoung. Jaemin seems to have his eyes fixed on Doyoung’s collection of plants, but he doesn’t say anything yet.

“We usually have simple stuff on the weekdays, but I try to cook more traditional food when I have time. How about you?” Yuta looks at Jaemin. “Up or down, bub?”

“Up!” Jaemin wraps his arms around Yuta’s neck, holding onto him. Yuta grins. Carrying a child Jaemin’s age for that long can be tiring, Doyoung knows, but Yuta holds him with ease.

“Same, more or less — but I’ve been getting a little lazy these days.” Doyoung opens up the fridge to double check on what he has. He didn’t really eat eggs this week, so he has plenty of those left. And he has some vegetables and a little bit of sausage that could go with it. “How would you feel about omelettes right now?”

When he looks up, Doyoung’s met with a small smile. “Omelettes sound great.”

“Great — just give me about ten minutes and I’ll have them ready. You could sit in the living room if you’d like? Or at the dining table? Whatever is more comfortable.”

“What?” Yuta’s eyebrows furrow. “No — let me help you.”

“Me too!” Jaemin chimes in.

“But you’re my guests—”

“Doyoung.” Yuta looks like he’s trying to figure out what to say. Doyoung wonders what he would say if Jaemin wasn’t clinging to him right now. He settles on: “Please? I insist.”

“Alright…” Doyoung relents. He hands Yuta the carton of eggs. “Could you two prepare the eggs then? There’s a bowl up there, utensils in there..” He points to the cabinet across from the fridge and a drawer below it. “Is there anything you can’t eat?”

“Milk!” Jaemin tells him and scrunches up his face at the word.

“Mhm, Jaeminnie is lactose intolerant,” Yuta enunciates the words slowly. “Is it okay if he sits on the counter?”

“Sure, no problem.” Doyoung pulls out some scallions, half a green pepper, and a sausage.

Jaemin settles onto the counter top and swings his legs gently as he watches Yuta crack eggs into a bowl. “Felix told me eggs came from chicken.”

“Yeah?” Yuta hands Jaemin a fork and uses another to slowly start beating the eggs. “He’s right — chickens lay eggs.”

“Then how come the eggs are in the fridge?”

“Mm, people go to farms and the chickens give them eggs so we can bring them home.”

“But Papa the store has so many eggs! How’d they get so many?” Jaemin looks at him with wide eyes.

“Well.” Yuta’s fork slows to stop. “There’s lots of chickens and lots of farms.”

“How many? Can we go count them?”

“Ah...” Yuta falters, searching for a good answer to give his son.

“So Jaemin,” Doyoung gently cuts in as he starts to slice the scallions. He knows kids' curiosity turned into interrogations over the wonders of the world can get to be a lot sometimes. “Is Felix a friend from school?”

Jaemin looks between Yuta and Doyoung first before replying. “Yeah! And there’s Yeiji and Donghyuck and Renjun.” Jaemin smiles wide. “He likes Moomin.”

“Do you like Moomin too?”

Jaemin nods, any thought of helping his father with the eggs abandoned in favor of turning to talk to Doyoung. “Moomin is cute but I like Pokémon more.”

“Oh?” Doyoung grins and reaches for the pepper. “Which one is your favorite?”

Jaemin hums and scratches his head in thought, the way he’s probably seen cartoon characters do. “Eevee! And Chikorita!”

“I like them too, but I like Snorlax the most.” He smiles and wonders how Jaemin knows so many old-school Pokémon.

“But he’s always sleeping!” Jaemin giggles. He reaches out and tugs on Yuta’s sleeve. “Papa what’s your favorite?”

Yuta looks up from diligently beating eggs. “I think Squirtle is cool.” He grins. “Remember we watched an episode where he wore sunglasses?”

“Yes!” Jaemin laughs, delighted, and launches into a re-cap of an episode he enjoyed, Yuta listening to him with a gentle smile, nodding at all the right moments, even though he’s probably seen the episode himself loads of times with Jaemin before.

“Just a second, Jaem,” Yuta pauses his son’s story to turn to give Doyoung the bowl.

And Doyoung gets a chance to look at him properly for the first time today. He seems tired, with dark smudges under his eyes.

“Would you like some coffee..?” Doyoung asks as he takes the bowl. He looks over at his half-finished cup, probably lukewarm now. “I was thinking of making some more.”

“That would be great, honestly.”

Jaemin raises his hand. “Me too, me too!”

“Sorry Jaeminnie, only grown-ups can drink coffee.” Yuta brushes back the strands of hair falling into Jaemin’s eyes.

Jaemin huffs and crosses his arms. It seems like they’ve had this conversation before. “When I grow up I’m gonna to drink all the coffee in the world!”

Yuta shakes his head, looking equal parts fond and amused. “If you say so.”

 

○ ○ ○

 

Breakfast goes smoothly — for the most part.

Jaemin sits on top of a cushion on the chair so he can reach the table properly and tells Doyoung all about the pre-school and daycare he goes to, Yuta adding in little details and corrections.

He seems a little more comfortable around Doyoung too, smiling more and getting into a proper conversation with Doyoung that doesn’t involve food or cartoon characters. Doyoung tells Yuta he’s a middle school history teacher. Yuta tells him he’s an occupational therapist, and that he does in fact work in a hospital like Doyoung had guessed.

“Papa,” Jaemin tugs at Yuta’s pant leg as he and Doyoung carry the dirty dishes to the kitchen. “Can I play a game..?”

Yuta carefully sets the plates in his hand down and reaches into his pocket for his phone. “Okay, but only for a little bit. After Doyoung and I are done, we have to go back home and get ready.”

“Mmhm.” Jaemin makes grabby hands for the phone as Yuta pulls up some colorful app, bubbly music playing on the startup screen. He makes a little sound of triumph as soon as Yuta gives it to him, then skips off to play in the dining room.

Once Jaemin’s settled in the chair again, Yuta leans against his hip against the counter. Doyoung’s sink is small. It would be easier for him to work alone instead of having the two of them try to work together.

“You don’t have to help me with this, you know.” Doyoung turns the tap on and begins to rinse the plates.

“Nah, it’s fine,” Yuta says. He reaches for the sponge and hands it to Doyoung, even though Doyoung could’ve reached it easily. “I wanted to ask you something, actually.”

Doyoung licks his lips absently. “Yeah..?”

Yuta doesn’t say anything for a moment, just gives him this indiscernible look, so Doyoung takes the chance to start gently scrubbing at the plate in his hand.

Then, softly: “You don’t have feelings for me, do you..?”

Doyoung nearly loses his grip on the sponge. “What?” He turns the tap off and looks at Yuta. “No, of course not — before, in the summer, that was just…”

“A one time thing..?” Yuta finishes.

Doyoung nods. Because — sure, Yuta’s attractive, with his pretty eyes and charming smile and nice arms (and he _does_ seem like a nice person and all). But Doyoung doesn’t feel anything beyond that. He’s not exactly looking for a relationship — not now or any time soon. “I was just thinking — there aren’t that many people in the building around our age, and you’re new, so...Maybe we could be friends, or something? Neighbors on friendly terms?”

“Cool. I'd like that." Yuta's expression mellows out into a smile again. He almost seems relieved. “I just wanted to check. I didn’t want things to end up being weird between us.”

“Cool,” Doyoung echos. He supposes that makes sense. He just wasn't expecting to be asked about this in the middle of his kitchen at eight in the morning with his hands covered in soap suds.

Yuta takes the now clean plate from Doyoung and places it in the drying rack.

“Thanks,” Doyoung mumbles and they do the rest of the dishes like that: Doyoung washing and Yuta carefully placing them to dry, even though it would be less complicated for Doyoung to do everything. But maybe this is better than Yuta just standing there and watching him.

“ _So_ since we’re now on, as you call it, friendly terms,” Yuta starts again as Doyoung washes the last fork. “Can I have your number?”

“My number?”

“Your phone number?” Yuta grins. It’s that same teasing smile from two weeks ago, the same one from months ago — just before Yuta had pulled him in for a kiss (not that _that's_  relevant right now). “For emergencies, y’know? Or if I have questions.”

“Oh! Sure.” Doyoung turns the tap off and dries his hand on the kitchen towel hanging off his oven. He pulls his phone out of his pocket, unlocks it, and hands it over. “You can put your number in, text yourself from my phone…”

Yuta smiles down at Doyoung’s phone wallpaper before opening up the contacts app. “Cute kid, by the way.”

“That’s my nephew — Jeno.” Doyoung beams, pride warming his chest. His brother lives close enough for Doyoung to easily visit every other week, and in Doyoung’s completely unbiased opinion, Jeno is wonderful, the absolute best. Johnny and Taeyong keep saying that Doyoung shows off photos of Jeno like he’s his own child, but Doyoung is one hundred percent sure anyone else in his place would do the same. He’ll hold back on showing Yuta the drawings Jeno made for him, though. For now, at least. “He’s four.”

“Same age as Jaemin then.” Yuta smiles and hands Doyoung his phone back. _Yuta Nakamoto_ , the contact name at the top of the text message reads. He’s sent a peace sign emoji to himself.

“I take care of him when my brother and sister-in-law are busy — maybe the two of them could play together sometime?” Doyoung offers. He’s sure Jeno would enjoy having someone his age to hang out with when he stays at Doyoung’s apartment.

“That would be fun! I’m sure Jaemin would love that.”

Doyoung pockets his phone and the two of them walk towards the dining area together. Jaemin looks up from tapping at the phone screen. “Are we going now?”

"We have stuff to do, and so does Doyoung.”

Jaemin slides off the chair, but holds onto the phone. “Can I play more later?”

“After we get ready, yes.” Yuta holds out his hand, smiling when Jaemin holds onto two of his fingers. He looks up at Doyoung again and smiles wider. “Thank you so much for breakfast. You’re a great cook.”

“Thank you~” Jaemin sing-songs. “Can I have eggs next time?”

Yuta laughs, cheeks turning pink again. He looks at Doyoung apologetically. “We can’t eat breakfast at Doyoung’s house every day, Jaemin.”

Doyoung can't help but chuckle too. Kids are always so honest and straightforward, it’s refreshing. “If you two ever want to come for lunch, though, let me know.”

“Okay!” Jaemin nods, accepting this offer immediately as the three of them amble towards the main door. He reaches up to slip the phone into Yuta's pocket and Doyoung notices for the first time that Yuta’s pajama pants have little cherries all over them — which is kind of endearing, if he’s being honest.

Yuta waves a little before he goes across the hall, and Jaemin does the same, though more animatedly. “Thanks again, Doyoung.”

Doyoung waves back. "Enjoy your weekend." He chews on the inside of his cheek, considering his next words, then smiles playfully. He's glad he and Yuta cleared the air. It almost physically feels like his nervousness and uncertainty from before have thawed and melted. "Try not to burn anything else, yeah?"

"Yeah, alright." Yuta snorts, but he's grinning too, eyes bright. "Enjoy the rest of your day."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> shoutout to doyoung’s snorlax keychain and the fact that pokémon: indigo league is on netflix :3c 
> 
> kudos and comments always appreciated~ thank you for reading!!


	3. three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone seems to have the same idea as Doyoung: to finally get out under the sun after being cooped up inside for a week — so he isn't surprised to see Yuta and Jaemin at the park too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm so sorry it took so long for this chapter T___T i've been feeling bad about my writing lately and had such a block on this fic especially for some reason,, thank you so much for the kudos and comments so far <3

Doyoung's day starts like this:

He sleeps through his first alarm and has a late start to his morning. He has to skip making his morning coffee in order to get to school on time, and ten minutes into the first period, a headache kicks in, his body demanding caffeine.

He does manage to make himself a cup in the teacher's lounge after second period, but they've run out of cream and sugar, and he doesn't have the time to go to the other side of the building to get some from the cafeteria. Black coffee is absolutely disgusting and Doyoung will never understand how his co-workers and friends can actually enjoy it.

And as if the coffee could  _feel_ Doyoung's dislike for it, part of it spilled on his planner, just to spite him. 

On the bright side — the weather is lovely. The sun is finally shining after a week of rain, and it isn't even humid. And it would be great — if the kids weren't so eager to get outside instead of focusing on Doyoung's lecture. He loves his kids — they're a lot of fun to teach most days, and he works hard to make his lessons interesting for them. But he could really do without them getting into their own conversations and mouthing off to him.

To top it all off, his aux cord stopped working on his way home, so he decided to turn on the radio, only to have his ex-boyfriend's favorite song come on.

So when Doyoung finally gets home, the first thing he does is flop onto the sofa and sigh into the cushion smushed against his face.

"At least it's the weekend now," he mumbles to no one in particular. He sighs again and turns onto his side, staring out at his living room, at the tiny cactus on the center table. He got it, along with a bunch of other plants, over the summer to redecorate the apartment — make it completely his own, without leaving a trace that someone else had even lived here, much less had an opinion on which potted plant should be placed where.

That Imagine Dragons song really did it for him.

Doyoung considers himself an independent person. He's fine living the way he is right now. Perfectly content. He's happy.

But he has to admit, it had been nice when his boyfriend had been here to comfort him after a shitty day. They'd talk for a bit, gentle fingers stroking Doyoung's hair, and then they'd put on a movie or a show, maybe order in. Nothing too big or special. It was just nice to have someone be there with him.

But Jinyoung left him in June (at least he was considerate enough to do it when school wasn't in session). And Doyoung is over him. Really. It just sucks sometimes — to have someone be a big part of your life for so many years, and then suddenly not have them by your side anymore.

He knows he could talk to his friends about it. Johnny and Taeyong were there for him every step of the way right after the breakup — they even let him laze on Johnny’s couch for a day while marathoning a crappy drama and eating a hole into Taeyong’s snack supply. He could talk to them — he trusts them, obviously. But it’s been months. He doesn’t _want_ to keep bothering them over this. Part of him knows they won’t mind, but a louder part of him right now thinks that they might. 

Doyoung sits up. It’s just one off day. He’s _fine_. He's not going to mope over a guy who decided their relationship was worth putting more effort into, wasn't worth trying to save. Not anymore.

He drags himself off the sofa and into his bathroom. He washes his face, the cold water refreshing, scrubbing away some of his weariness of the day. It's still sunny outside and not too warm.  He has an hour to kill before he needs to head over to Taeyong's place for dinner. A quick walk could be good for him.

Doyoung grabs his headphones from his bag and scrolls through his playlists as he makes his way out of the apartment.

At least Nell won't let him down.

 

○ ○ ○

 

The park near Doyoung's apartment is bustling.

It's about a ten minute walk away from his apartment, not too big or small but it has a playground for kids, a walking trail around the perimeter, and a sectioned off area for dogs to run around freely and play with each other.

Everyone seems to have the same idea as Doyoung: to finally get out under the sun after being cooped up inside for a week. There's an old couple taking a stroll, teenagers on skateboards, kids hanging off the monkey bars, and — Doyoung isn't surprised at all to see Yuta and Jaemin here too.

The two of them are dribbling a soccer ball in a grassy patch near the swings. Or rather — Yuta is dribbling the ball, quick and nimble, his footwork looking professional (at least to Doyoung). Jaemin chases him with a wide grin on his face, laughing when Yuta spins and starts kicking the ball in another direction.

Doyoung smiles to himself as he starts on the winding path around the park. The father and son duo remind Doyoung of his own childhood — how his parents would bring him and his brother out to play together. His parents had been athletes in college, and Donghyun seemed to inherit that same competitive sportsmanship. It was never really Doyoung's thing, even when his parents urged him to do track or _some_ sport in high school.

Still — those evenings with the four of them outside, the weekends when they'd go to baseball games, sitting in the living room together to watch the olympics (and give their own commentary) — those are moments he'll always treasure.

He should call them soon. It's been a while. After college, he decided to stay on the west coast instead of settling back in Atlanta. Two thousand miles shouldn't have put a strain on their relationship, but if he's honest with himself — Doyoung's closeness to his parents started to ebb away much before that, when he was in college.

He still visits them for a week in the summer every year, but he couldn't bring himself to go this time. It just isn't the same anymore — never the same as what it used to be. Doyoung wonders if that distance is supposed to be a part of getting older.

Doyoung's halfway around the park when his phone buzzes in his pocket.

**CALL FROM: TAEYONG LEE**

"Do~young," Taeyong sing-songs into the phone as soon as Doyoung picks up. He's in an especially good mood today, it seems. "You're still coming tonight, right?"

"Of course." Doyoung finds himself grinning. As much as he teases his best friend, Taeyong is cute like this and his energy is contagious. "I'll be there around seven-thirty."

"Can you pick up drinks on the way? Johnny's working a little late and you guys never like what I get."

Doyoung snorts. "'Cause all you drink is hard cider."

Taeyong huffs, indignant. "Anyway."

"Yeah, sure, I'll get something." Doyoung checks the time on his phone. He still has a good forty minutes before he should start. "What's the occasion?"

"We're celebrating something!"

"Oh?"

"You'll find out soon enough! Don't be late!"

Before Doyoung can say that he's never late, Taeyong hangs up.

"Brat." Doyoung grumbles without any bite. In ten years, Taeyong has barely changed, and there's something comforting about that.

He presses play again and pockets his phone, focusing on the lyrics and melody and nothing else. By the time Doyoung circles back to where he started, he's gotten through a good chunk of the album and his head feels a little more clear.

Yuta and Jaemin, he notices, have stuck two twigs into the ground like a mini goal post. Yuta stands in front of it while Jaemin runs towards him, kicking the ball in front of him the best he can with his tiny legs. 

Yuta glances up and catches his eye, giving a short wave, which Doyoung returns, before focusing back on Jaemin as he gets closer to the goal.

Doyoung slows to a stop and settles on a nearby bench. He'd almost forgotten — he's been meaning to talk to Yuta — but after the day he's just had, texting his neighbor was on the last thing on his mind.

Jaemin rushes forward, dribbling clumsily. He doesn't as much shoot as goal as run straight past Yuta with the ball, nearly knocking one of the twings down.

It's good enough for Yuta, though, because he picks Jaemin up over his head and spins him around, making the four year old cackle in delight. "Goal!"

"Goal!" Jaemin yells back, clapping his hands together.

Yuta pulls Jaemin into a hug, settling him on his hip, and gently nuzzles his forehead to Jaemin's. It's sweet — tooth-achingly so.

When he pulls back, Yuta meets Doyoung's gaze, his smile still warm. "Hey."

Jaemin turns and his eyes light up with recognition. He wriggles until Yuta sets him down, then runs over to Doyoung, giddy. "Did you see? I did a goal!"

Doyoung crouches down so he's eye level with Jaemin. "I saw! That was great, Jaemin!"

Yuta jogs over, dribbling the ball, then kneels next to Jaemin. He’s in a plain black t-shirt, the long sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and he’s changed his studs out for hoop earrings. His teeth are still ridiculously perfect when he smiles. "Come here often?"

"It's too nice out to stay inside." Doyoung shrugs. "By the way, I got some of your mail accidentally. I wanted to give it to you in person instead of slipping it under your door or something."

"Mail time~" Jaemin hums. He circles around Yuta, jumping onto his father's back, laughing when Yuta lets out a soft _oof_.

"Oh — awesome, thank you. I could come pick it up whenever you’re free." Yuta secures Jaemin on his back and slowly stands up. "Are you heading back now...?"

Doyoung grabs the soccer ball and stands up straight. He tosses the ball lightly, turning it in his hands a few times. He nods. "Can I walk with you?"

 

○ ○ ○

 

Yuta takes quicker strides than Doyoung's usual leisurely pace. Between that and Jaemin's barrage of questions, it's almost hard for Doyoung to keep up.

"Do you like soccer?"

Doyoung hums. He doesn't want to let Jaemin know he isn't exactly a fan. "My big brother and I used to play soccer when we were little."

"Big brother?" Jaemin exclaims.

"Just like Aunt Momoka is my big sister and Aunt Haruna is my little sister," Yuta says. "Doyoung has a big brother."

"I want a big brother!"

Yuta laughs. "Maybe one day you can _be_ a big brother."

And it's Doyoung's turn to chuckle when Jaemin launches into a series of questions on how _that_ could happen.

The leaves are slowly starting to change, a little later in the year than they usually do. It doesn’t take long for Jaemin asks to be let down so he can step on the browning leaves on their path, grinning in delight each time there's a satisfying crunch.

“How was work?” Doyoung manages to ask Yuta between Jaemin telling him about Mark from daycare who is _five_ years old and has a cool backpack.

Yuta wrinkles his nose. “You know, when I decided on this field, I didn’t realize how much _paperwork_ there would be. I kinda don’t wanna look at another screen for the next few days."

Doyoung’s about to reply (because, _yeah_ , he knows exactly how that feels) when Jaemin interrupts them: “Papa, what’s that?”

A couple of houses along the way have started to put up Halloween decorations too, getting into the spirit right at the start of the month. Nothing scary yet, mostly jack-o-lanterns and friendly looking ghosts. Jaemin is pointing to a cartoon vampire outside their apartment building.

“That’s a Halloween monster called a vampire,” Yuta explains. “They, uh — they’re only awake at night and sleep in the morning.”

“He’s wearing purple,” Jaemin informs them, eyeing the black and violet cape. “Mama likes purple!"

And — right. Doyoung hadn't realized there was a mother in the picture. He hadn't thought about it before. He didn't want to assume anything. But he can't help but wonder now, curiosity getting the best of him — does Jaemin see her often? Is Yuta on good terms with her?

When Doyoung glances at him, Yuta's still got the same serene smile that he usually has while talking to his son. "That's right." He reaches down to pat Jaemin's head. "Tell Doyoung what _your_ favorite color is."

"Mm, yellow!"

"Like that?" Doyoung points to a golden leaf on the sidewalk.

"Yeah!" Jaemin crouches down to pick it up. He looks between Yuta and Doyoung. "Do you like yellow?"

"I do," Doyoung says. "But blue is my favorite."

Jaemin nods seriously, holding the leaf close to his chest as the three of them make their way into the building. They follow Yuta up the stairs. "Papa likes yellow, so Papa can have the leaf," Jaemin tells him. "And then I can find a blue leaf! And then Do-Doyoung can have it!"

"That's very kind of you, Jaemin," Doyoung says. He glances up at Yuta, mirroring his fond smile. It seems like neither of them have the heart to tell the four year old he's going to have a very hard time finding a blue leaf.

They slow to a stop in the middle of their hall. "I'll just grab your mail, give me a second."

"Take your time." Yuta fishes through his pocket for his keys. "I was wondering — would you like to have dinner with us? Since I owe you."

"Oh. I'd love to, really. But I already have plans for tonight." Doyoung chews on the inside of his cheek and hands the soccer ball back to Yuta. "Next time...?"

"I’ll hold you to that." Yuta smiles wider — does he ever stop smiling? Not that Doyoung would want him to stop. His smile is nice. "Enjoy your evening."

 

○ ○ ○

 

Taeyong looks like a cat who got his cream.

He flits around the kitchen, humming some bright bubble pop song with a pleased little smile permanently etched on his face, wiggling happily to the lyrics in his head as he adds the finishing touches to their dinner.

Doyoung looks at Johnny, who seems to be just as amused by Taeyong. _Five minutes_ , Johnny mouths, betting how long it would take for Taeyong to spill the news.

Doyoung grins. _Less_ , he replies.

"So," Taeyong starts after setting his ladle down. Doyoung silently pumps his fist in the air while Taeyong isn't watching. "You know Taeil?"

Johnny raises his eyebrows, trying his very best to keep a neutral expression. "Taeil, the first grade teacher who you share your lunch with sometimes?"

“Taeil who sends you cat videos to your school e-mail?”

"Taeil with the voice of an absolute angel?"

"Taeil with the cute haircuts?"

"Taeil with an ass that won't quit?"

"Yeah," Doyoung snorts. The last one had been a part of three-cup Taeyong's drunk ramblings that neither of them are going to let him forget any time soon. "We know all about Taeil."

Maybe on another day, Taeyong would whine a little about them teasing him, the way he would back in college, but he just smiles wider. "He asked me out."

"Seriously?" Johnny nudges Taeyong with his shoulder. "That's great!"

"Took you two long enough." Doyoung grins. The two of them had been dancing around each other for almost a year, flirting but never committing to anything. "When's the date?"

"We're getting lunch tomorrow." Taeyong rummages through a drawer for a corkscrew and picks up the bottle of wine Doyoung had brought. "You guys have to help me pick out an outfit after dinner."

Doyoung laughs softly. He passes a couple of wine glass to Johnny (in case Taeyong's roommate comes back in time to join them), then takes two in his hand to carry to the dining table. "Looks like we'll be here all night."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yuta: flexing on a four year old, but with love
> 
> thank you for reading <3 as always, comments and kudos are greatly appreciated


End file.
